


Christmas with L

by danceRain7



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Christmas, Cute, Dominance, Erotica, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romantic Fluff, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21953581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceRain7/pseuds/danceRain7
Summary: You and L make up on Christmas Eve, and your gift to him brings on the kinky heat.
Relationships: L (Death Note) & Reader, L (Death Note) & You, L (Death Note)/Reader, L (Death Note)/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 141





	Christmas with L

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of being lonely and overly imaginative around Christmas. 
> 
> It's definitely a stretch on L's character, but L always was attached to his handcuffs... Hehe. I hope you enjoy, as I did. 
> 
> Happy holidays, y'all

You and L had been arguing lately. It was bound to happen, considering L did not want a relationship in the first place, but you naturally feel the urge to make progress and commit. Some things in life are not perfect nor fair. But, as they say, you ultimately decide not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good. 

After all, it was Christmas Eve. You insisted that L take a break from his work for once, as it was only healthy, but you know L; he is keen on working from nine to nine, and only closes his laptop instead of working straight into the night because he is hungrier than usual and wants to pursue his dinner quickly. After he eats, though, he sees the disappointment in your eyes, and just when you’ve given up on him, he hushedly articulates, “Shall we go see the lights?” 

You try to stay upset with him, but the grin pervades your face anyway, and you silently agree by hopping out of bed and gesturing towards your coats. 

L’s hair mops over the collar of a trench coat that is too heavy for the likes of him. It seems to worsen his hunchback; still, somehow it accentuates his tall, lean figure that you admire. You hesitate, but then decide to go ahead and wrap your arm around his, invoking a flinch from him. You then simply respond, "I'm cold," with which, to your surprise, you feel his shoulder relax.

The lights downtown are breathtaking. One of the trees is wrapped in nothing but royal blue, which accentuates the squarish top of the tree where the branches gradually fade into the dark sky. The trees near the streets were adorned in gold orbs that pretended to contain twinkling fireflies. It was warm outside and it had in fact rained earlier that afternoon, so the pavement glistened and reflected the silver and red tree of the plaza in detail. You feel the cold breeze blow on your face as you both walk home, but your cheeks are red and warm; you're grateful for this moment with the one you love regardless of the future, and you try to soak in every sensory detail. 

When you get back to the apartment, you flop onto the bed. You didn't expect to be so tired, but perhaps the arguments from earlier in the day were exhausting. You eventually get under the fluffy covers. When L walks into the room after taking his shoes off, you mumble your gratitude to him for going out. 

L is full of surprises today. He grabs the blanket with his fingertips and swiftly slips in underneath so he can become the big spoon behind you. You blink twice in disbelief, but you settle as the warmth of his body surrounds you and rushes to your cheeks. His hunched posture actually makes for great cuddling. His legs caress your butt, which feels more comforting than sexual, to be honest. You place your hand on top of his hand on your stomach and enjoy his presence for a while before you turn around and look into his eyes. They're like deep, indigo pools of woes guarded by a sheath of ice-- "is everything okay?" You whisper, as he's always so hard to read. 

"Ah, yeah." Is all he says, as he breaks eye contact and spaces out, looking toward the foot of the bed. You don't quite believe him, so you gently brush his hair back before digging your head into his neck and chest, with the same excuse as before: "I'm cold." 

L actually gives a silent chuckle, which you feel as a brief, breathy clench of his abs. He's one of those people who is stubborn about what he doesn't need until he realizes that he does need it. You don't mind, though; sometimes, these things can be handled with a transcendent understanding. With that, you gently rub his chest, and then gently run the flat of your nails back and forth along his back in a massage. You seem to melt the guard away from his body. 

You can feel his vocal cords vibrate as he speaks. "I, uh… I appreciate your company."

You want to squeal at how cute he's being, but you restrain yourself and instead stroke the hair at the nape of his neck as you let him continue. 

"I'm sorry if I act like I don't."

This is too sweet for your heart to handle. You've never been good at holding a grudge. 

"L… I know you. You mean well-- I mean, you're literally trying to save people's lives. I understand if you're focused on work. I'm sorry if I get too… relationshippy, sometimes."

You can feel L's facial flexion as he smiles at your made-up word. He opens his mouth as if to talk, but then decides not to. 

"I feel like you were going to say something?"

"No. Just breathing loudly."

Now you chuckle quietly as you exhale and get more comfortable in his arms, when you suddenly remember something. 

"L… I got you something for Christmas."

"Oh?"

"I didn't feel it was appropriate before, but I would like to give it to you now."

"Okay."

You slip out of bed, and L sits up and curls up into his signature crouch. By the time you get back with the box, L has his finger on his lip-- he's probably pondering if he should have gotten you something. 

"You don't have to get me anything," you say warmly. He gives you a smug smile to acknowledge that you read his mind. "I know you're not super into gift exchanging, but I thought this was… good."

You sigh at your inability to use a better word as you give him the box and hope for the best. 

L removes the lid of the box with his fingertips, and then pulls out with his thumb and index finger a pair of handcuffs with a long, long chain between each cuff; the whole thing is thoroughly coated with showy pink feathers and silver tinsel.

L's lack of words makes you a little nervous that it was too much too soon, but you then notice how hard he his trying to keep his cool.

"It's nice. Thank you." He says, simply. 

"Of course."

You then slightly freak out as you see some color rush to his usually pale face. 

"I would… like to try these."

Your eyes widen as if you're a deer seeing headlights. You know what he means. 

"There will be another gift you'll need for that." You reply, equally as enigmatic. With that, you leave the room.

You come back with nothing on you but a thick, red ribbon that twirls around your right leg, covers your sensitive parts like a thong and runs behind your back to your right shoulder, where a big ribbon adorns the top of your right breast.

L stares. He stares and stares even more intently than he normally does, partly in shock, partly in adoration. You would have bet he would have made another dry remark, but he says nothing. He just watches, breathes, with his lips absentmindedly parted. 

You notice your own breathing is shallow, too, so you decide to help the both of you and take a few steps forward until you're able to lean your hip on the bed. You turn his face into yours with one hand and put your bottom lip into the space above his, as you both snap out of your daze and remember how to kiss. (You taste sweeter than L today thanks to your peach lip balm. Something else-- you notice L is closing his eyes. Sensory overload? It couldn't be a romantic decision. Who knows.) He moves his hand to your waist, and as he does so he pushes you to lay down as he leans on one elbow over you, now.

He's careful to pace himself, as he nibbles your neck, but he can't help but fiddle with the bow by your breast. As he circles your left breast with his nose, he is keen to do the same to the other side, so he finally rips the adhesive bow off of your supple skin and tosses it to the side. The ribbon is still entwined around you and has a trailing end on the bed. 

You abruptly grab his face. "L, you're forgetting to use your present."

His eyes flash out of the hot and heavy for a moment as he gives you his adorable smile out of embarrassment. 

"I guess you should arrest me for that."

You bite your lip as you oblige and have him take off his shirt before you snap the handcuffs on each hand and loop the long chain in between the two upper bed posts behind him. 

"Do as I say, or else I won't touch you," you say in the female version of his hushed but decisive voice. 

L's silence is acceptance as he struggles to keep his wide eyes from slipping below your neckline. 

"Remove this ribbon with your teeth."

You lean in to help him reach the ribbon, and you turn to assist him in using the turn of his head to get the ribbon off of your back and out of your butt. 

You lift your leg over the ribbon and straddle him to get the ribbon out of your pussy. His eyebrows raise in surprise, but there are, of course, no complaints. You wordlessly pull the ribbon out of his mouth and let the other end remain around your leg. 

You start grinding on his mild erection through his jeans, and you come closer to his ear. "I need you to… examine the evidence," you say, hoping it's not too corny of an innuendo for nuzzling your breasts.

Apparently it wasn't, as he eagerly presses his face into your chest. You help him by pressing your breasts together and playing with your nipples as you feel them harden. 

Somehow, though he's in the handcuffs, your cunt aches. You get impatient and whip his pants and boxers off, and then straddle him in reverse to let him revere your ass as you do your dirty work. 

"We go at my pace, with my rules." It's your first time being the jail warden of sorts, and it's tough to stumble through the screenplay the first time. At least it can only get better. And L wasn't big on words, anyway.

You stroke the muscles where his toned torso lead down to his pelvis, only to tease him and rub just above his crotch before doing the same to the other side. (You notice his bladder seems full, but we'll take one kink at a time.)

Only after massaging his ass while swaying yours a little bit do you finally decide to bring your hand back around and stroke his thighs and finally his growing member. L gives an involuntary moan at the relieved tension. You give his cock only two finger strokes, however, as he must remember that this is his punishment. 

His hips start to twitch as you use your strokes skillfully, starting with the front of his cock, then messing around the head, playing with his balls, and then stroking the sensitive backside of his cock without fail. 

"Don't move," you command, and L stabilizes himself only about 80% of the way (his percent-wise quantifications have really rubbed off on you). You stop stroking and start laying slobbery kisses and licks on the head of his now fully erect penis, to which L groans and flexes his core to prevent movement, as ordered. 

"Good." You sit upright for a moment as you realize how wet you are against L's stomach. 

"Justice has been served." You relinquish control as you get off of him and untangle his handcuffs from the bed frame. You grab him a condom from the drawer next to you, and let him work on that while he still wears the cuffs.

By the time you catch your breath, though, he lassos you into the handcuff chain. The cold metal and the feathers on your ass is a new sensation entirely. 

"I'm afraid you're my next victim." L wasn't great at dialogue either, but L's few words catalyze the arousal within both of you.

He uses the chain to pull you near the bed, at which point he holds you by the waist and props you onto it at that perfect angle which will hit your g-spot. Your legs start off near the ground, but L uses the chain and his hands to prop your legs up to an optimized angle, according to his analysis. 

L has always been a bit choppy, here, as he inserts himself into you at once. Frankly, though, you are too wet and too amazed at his mere participation in the role play to care. 

Even at this angle, you're able to help him out with an albeit jerky gyration of your hips. To make things smoother, though, you put a signaling hand on his shoulder. 

"If you want to commit a crime, do it right." You say, giving up on dialogue as you lock your arms around him and pull him toward you as you scootch up on the bed. 

You both settle into some smooth missionary sex, during which you progressively dig your fingers deeper into his back. You two start matching rhythm, and you briefly remember his full bladder and all the pressure he must feel. That doesn't last long, though, as you both start moving together faster, at that stage where the bed begins to creak in time with your louder breathing.

"L… mmm…" you say, before you begin kissing him sloppily but with fervor, throwing role play out the window. He grunts a few sporadic times into your mouth in response.

You both feel close-- you're moving faster now, and you're trying to throw in rounder hip gyrations and clenches to really milk both of you out, but regardless that release is here, it's coming as he pounds into you now, the slapping of skin against your wetness echoing through the building, probably--

He's losing his cool, the world's greatest detective, as his facial expression edges on the edge of climax, as he grabs your hips and drills into you,

His balls slapping your folds is overwhelming, all of the wet foreplay until now seems to rush to you at once in waves of pleasure that come dangerously close to overlapping until you hear him--

"Ugghhh..." Your name spills out of L's lips as he ejaculates into the condom, you can feel the warmth and shudders which push you over into orgasm too, as your pussy twitches out of rhythm with his cock, and then clenches onto his penis as it gets progressively softer. Every convulsion of your body brushes so much of your skin against his. 

L collapses on top of you before even pulling out, and you breathe heavily into his sweaty, musky, lovely neck. 

When you both gain your bearings, he rolls out to the left of you but doesn't let go of your waist.

You two don't say much again, as you just look at each other and smile for beyond a socially acceptable amount of time, until L looks at the cuffs and inquires,

"Can you help me get these off?"


End file.
